


The Death of a Clan

by Scarletr0se



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Clan Lavellan - Freeform, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Slightly Sexually Suggestive, Solavellan, Spoilers, solas x lavellan - Freeform, solasmance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletr0se/pseuds/Scarletr0se
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Era receives the report on her clan, Solas helps deal with the aftermath and comforts her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death of a Clan

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Geeky-Jez, Brekalor, and biowaresucks for helping proofread and edit! seriously love you guys.

It was early afternoon when Era ghosted her fingertips along the fresco walls. She found the way Solas had painted her triumphs and stories entrancing, admiring his patience to take on such a project. She traced the lines of Celene’s dress and idly wondered if her death was necessary. She had elevated Gaspard to the throne and Briala had been placed to pull his strings so that the lives of the elves would be bettered. The night was chaotic and there were precious few hours to make a decision, but this was her life now. Era had to make the best choice with the information she had and simply prayed to the Creators it was the right one.

Often so, she would second guess herself. What if all of the choices she made were, in fact, the wrong ones? But with there being no one else with the ability to close the rifts did the others just follow along blindly? The pressure of a million lives constantly hung in the air around her and some days she thought the burdens she bore would strangle her. Era continued along the wall, tracing the lines as she went, lost deep in thought.

“My heart.” A voice fractured her reflections and she turned to face the speaker. Solas had only been standing a few feet from her. _When did he get here?_ She must have been lost further in thought than she realized. A warm smile curled on her painted pink lips and her eyes softened.

“Solas.” Era tilted her head to meet his eyes. _Those eyes_. The very grey-blue ocean that she could disappear in. The elves slowly closed the distance that lingered between them. His hand moved to place a stray braid of crimson hair behind her small ears and hers moved to cup his jawline, idly brushing a thumb along his cheek. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough.” he spoke with an affection that offered promises of honeyed kisses and warm embraces.

Solas took joy in watching Era when she thought no one could see her, it heated his heart in a way he could not deny. When there was no one to see her was when she truly showed the softness that lay underneath. Too often Era masked her true demeanor in public, she liked to project a version of herself that was aloof and abrasive. He took pleasure in seeing the mask removed during their time alone together. A pleasure she was slowly getting used to sharing as their affections for one another grew from an ember to a flame.

“Ever so cryptic,” she teased while closing the remaining distance between them and rested her head underneath his chin, her hand slipping from his jaw and placed over his heart. _Her heart_. Solas slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close to his frame. Era’s eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of being enveloped by the elder elf. She cherished moments like these. They were few and far in between due to the chaos that seemed to rule over so much of their present lives. “I was just--”

The Inquisitor was cut off by the sound of heavy footfalls coming from the stairs. The lovers broke their gaze and turned to see the Spymaster with a paper clenched in her hand, trying to conceal a shocked look on her features. Era pulled from Solas’s embrace and continued to study Leliana’s face. Something felt… off. A silence swayed in the air about them.

“Leli--”

“Your worship…” They both spoke at the same time, but Leliana’s voice over rode Era’s. The bard’s eyes darted from Solas then back to the Inquisitor. In all of the Spymaster’s years mastering the game and holding so many lives in her hands this was news she dreaded to share. Leliana’s heart was practically pounding out of her chest. “Might I speak with you in private?” Leliana straightened her posture, as if bracing for impact.

“What is it?” Era furrowed her brow at the uneasiness she saw in Leliana. The spymaster tightened her grip on the paper, her jaw tensed, trying to find the right words. Lavellan noticed.

“I would prefer to--” she was cut off by Era snatching the paper from her hand, giving the bard a glare as if to chide her for wasting time on important matters.

“This is…” Era held the parchment with both her hands, upwards towards the light. Her chestnut eyes dashed across the words. Her heart sank further the more she read.

> _“We destroyed the red lyrium, but were forced to retreat after doing so. The remaining forces of Wycome did not pursue us, but fell upon Clan Lavellan in their rage. I regret to inform you that the Dalish clan was entirely destroyed.”_

The world suddenly felt like it was spinning. The breath felt stolen from her lungs. Her stomach tied into agonizing knots and her hands trembled, dropping the parchment. Era looked to Leliana and then to Solas. Their mouths moved but her pulse was thumping so loud in her ears, she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Solas reached out for her arm. No sooner had she been in his grasp had she gracefully escaped it. Her head was reeling and for a moment her vision darkened. She staggered, but caught herself. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. To her, the clan was her life. To Wycome, they were just another bunch of elves. Second class citizens whose lives didn’t matter, whose lives were less precious than that of their hounds. She fled from the rotunda.

The door to Solas’s study swung open and Era leaned on it for a quick respite. Varric took note of her expression. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost. She glanced at him, though her vision remained wobbly at best. She tried to focus but all control was slipping from her grasp. Varric’s mouth moved but she couldn’t make out the words. She staggered forward, out into the great hall. _The nobles. The_ shemlen _nobles. Must keep face. Don’t break now. Not here._ Era sucked in a deep breath and clenched a fist at her side, striding through the sea of ‘Your Worship’ and ‘Inquisitor’ with a pace as close to sprinting as she could muster without breaking appearances.

Era reached the entryway to her quarters, still deaf to the people filling the hall. She paused, leaning against the door as soon as it was shut. Her hands rose to her face, trembling violently. Her breath hitched and the anxious nausea began to take hold. She fought it. Surely someone noticed and would have given chase. She needed to move up the stairs. _Those stairs_. The stairs that seemed to stretch to the sky in her current condition. Every step made her chest feel heavier than the last. The report was sinking into her soul like a feather in molasses. Era had never been one to process ill news well, but it wouldn’t be long before she drowned in it.

Inquisitor Lavellan reached out for the final door to her chambers, vision beginning to blur and sting with tears as they welled in her eyes. She fought them back too; in her mind crying was a weakness, and one she could ill afford these days. Her balance wavered when she finally entered her chambers, stumbling up the final small set of steps. With feet dragging, she made her way to the bed. Era stood at the edge, mind racing. The women, the children, the elders-- all of them were gone. Her clan. Her family. To the world it was only one more cost of the gruesome war to set the world right. To her it was no different than tearing the heart from her chest.

Era felt restless, she was unsure what to do with herself. Part of her said to flee. Part of her said to weather the week’s ride to Wycome and dispense personal justice, Inquisition reputation be damned. Shemlens be damned. _Era Lavellan be damned_. It was her call. Her fault. _My fault_. If she had taken Leliana’s advice and not Cullen’s, would they still be alive? Would they still be safe? She found herself sitting and staring absentmindedly at the spaces and cracks in the stone floor. Her body was shaking, but she was not cold. A lump had formed in her throat and it hurt to swallow. It hurt to breath. It hurt to exist. It just _hurt_.

“Vhenan.” Solas spoke with a gentleness she had never heard. Era didn’t respond. She simply moved further onto the bed and curled into a ball against the mountains of crimson and gold pillows piled against the headboard.

He approached, eyes searching for purchase. Searching for any signal of what to say. He wanted to comfort her. To tell her it would be alright, but he knew all too well the feeling of such loss. The mistakes of his younger self still echoed a melancholy song in his soul. In contrast to his usual disposition, he was speechless. Instead of speaking he moved onto the bed and lay on his back beside her. Solas caressed his hand over hers, currently fisted in the silken sheets. Her grip tightened at the contact.

They remained like so for a while, only the sound of her shivering breaths broke the silence. Eventually she inched closer to his body. Solas responded in kind and rolled to his side, opening his arms with invitation. She all but flung herself into his grasp, burying her face against his chest, begging to be held. He obliged, wrapping his arms around Era and resting his head atop hers. He sighed and lyrical ancient elvish began spilling from his tongue. She didn’t understand the words, but the feeling. The rhythm. Something in it swam over her body and engulfed her. Era’s breathing quickened as he continued to speak. Her breath hitched once more, her hand on his chest balled his tunic into her fist. She whimpered. It only took a few more words flowing past his lips and she came undone. Era quaked as she sobbed, her voice straining. Solas’s embrace tightened as she fell apart in his arms. Another precious part of her only he has seen. He both cherished and scorned it.

Solas brushed a hand through her hair, pulling some strands to her jaw with his movements. He thumbed away the tears staining her cheeks, idly tracing the scar that lay vertical under her left eye. With some effort he moved her face to meet his and gazed not with pity, but sympathy. A pained sympathy that said he was unsure of what words to speak to ease her grief. Era drew a ragged breath, her bottom lip trembling as she leaned into his caress, needing to feel his touch. Solas tilted forward and pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, nose, and finally to where June’s vallaslin marked her eyes in dark circles, kissing away the stray tears. She let out a sob and he responded with reassuring hushes, lazily combing his fingers through her dark crimson tresses. Petting her, comforting her.

Era brushed a dampened cheek against his, feeling the need to be closer. He allowed her to take what she needed from him, leaning into the touch. She was trembling in his arms, her hand was gripping the cloth of his cream tunic in a manner that only said ‘Stay.’ She pressed her forehead to his, taking one final glimpse into his eyes, and closed her own, wayward tears being forced down her cheek and into the pillows beneath. Solas placed a hand to the back of her neck and curled his digits gingerly into the flesh.

With a tattered breath she pressed her lips to his. This was not a kiss of desire, like they had shared in the fade, nor was it a kiss of wanting, such as the one they shared on her balcony. No, this kiss was compassionate. Supple, tear soaked flesh speaking waves of tender devotion and sympathy, the warmth of which was allowing her to chase away some of the ache that had buried itself deep in her chest. They shared in each other a longing; hers a longing to be loved, and his a longing to never be alone. Era became swept away in the swell of her emotions, it almost proved too much to bear. Thus she broke from the kiss, but her lips still remained brushing against his. Her body ceased shaking sometime during their embrace, however, her ragged breathing did not. The emotions left her drunk, eyes burning and puffy, she almost felt high. The short breaths, that teetered on hyperventilation, weren’t helping.

Solas searched her face with concern, still feeling Era’s hot breath tickle his lips from their lingering closeness. His brow furrowed as her mouth crashed against his. A bruising kiss. A kiss that now spoke of needing, and demanding. Her hands clawed at his tunic, pulling him closer, moving to cup Solas’s jawline, her fingers hooking into his skin. She urgently took and he willingly gave until he felt her hand rubbing the warm skin beneath his tunic. She was attempting to pull the cloth from his body and he caught her wrist in his hand-- breaking the kiss. A whimper tumbled along her tongue, bottom lip quivering at the loss of contact. After allowing the heavy breathing between them to settle, he spoke.

“Era, no. Not like this.”

They had never been _intimate_ before and he didn’t want her first time to be a result of tragic events. He wanted it to be special for her, to be perfect. He wanted it to be with someone that deserved her love and wasn’t omitting the truth about who they were. He pulled her wrist to his lips and placed a gentle kiss, shaking his head in disapproval. Era laid her hand flat on his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his cheek bone. He moved his hand over hers.

“Solas. _Please_ ,” she urged through shallow breaths.

His resolve began to crumble, gazing at her sympathetically he inspected her features trying to come to a decision. Her expression was one of pain and one of wanting. It broke his heart. Solas’s breaths punctuated the silence between them as he came to his verdict.

“Are you certain?”

Era’s answer was a delicate kiss that vocalized volumes of her true gentle nature and it melted away any more arguments he would have had. They sunk into each other. A symphony of compassion and love as old as time itself. Hands wandered, mouths searched for purchase, and flesh sought out warmth. They made love to the color palette of the sunset, interlaced and tender; both comforting and fulfilling. The final notes of their duet emphasized by doting and warm kisses. Solas held her throughout the night, accompanying her dreams and chased away the nightmares. It would prove to be the longest and most peaceful sleep she ever had.


End file.
